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About Tehuti
I am an amateur writer of novels, serials, and novellas. Most of my work is in the genres of fantasy, mythology, drama, occult, GLBT, and erotica.
As I'm not seeking publication, I offer my work online for free reading. I'm not seeking stylistic critique so much as feedback from people who just like reading what I write. I love hearing what people think of my characters, plots, themes, etc., so if you have any comments or advice on those, feel free to share. I'm not hugely popular and often go many months without hearing from readers so I enjoy all the comments I get!
My interests are Ojibwa mythology, Mackinac Island, Egyptian mythology, Jungian symbolism and dream interpretation, ritual crime, fantasy writing, and various other things you can find in my personal bio, available just to the right. Please click to learn more about me and what I'm looking for in terms of readers and potential friends.
Feel free to hit me up if you're interested in any of these things, and enjoy my writing!
Tar! :) |
 Content Rating Notice: Recommended for Readers 18 Years and Older Only |
Untitled Tentative Blog-Type Thing Entry #597531, added on 07-20-08 @ 5:33 pm EDT
Entry Access Restriction: None.
Well, I haven't much of a mind for journaling lately, but if I don't type it up sometime I guess I never will.
Anyway, what was the last day of June? A Monday? I think that was when I went to the island. Nothing monumentally interesting happened so I haven't really a reason to write up a gargantuan entry about it...in fact I wonder how I was ever able to write such huge entries at all. I'm by no means saying I find the island boring now. I just don't know how I wrote such long entries when basically all I do is walk around and take pictures. Well...I followed the route I planned out, let me see if I can recall it...I started on Main Street of course, heading up to Market Street, then to Cadotte Avenue, then to Annex Road, then cutting across on Lousignon Trail (I'm not sure of the spelling of this, I thought it was Louisignon but I have a photo of the trail sign and it gives the first spelling *shrug* ), then to Coffee Trail, taking that to the intersection and heading up British Landing Road to British Landing (I had wanted to detour to visit Cave of the Woods, but decided not to...maybe next time); briefly rest here, then head back down British Landing Road a bit to get to Scott's Road, taking that around the north end of the island until reaching Leslie Avenue, then taking that back to British Landing Road which then turns into Garrison Road, then turning onto Custer Road, then taking that to Fort Street or whatever it's called and heading back down into town. Anyway, I followed this route exactly. I started out leaving town around 10:30 AM and got back into town a little before five PM.
There's a fuel surcharge on ferry tickets this year, which I find odd; they say that a ferry ticket is such and such a price PLUS a fuel surchage of such and such. I wonder why they don't just hike up the total ticket price and skip mentioning the "fuel surcharge"? It's the same either way for the customer. Giving the ticket price and then tacking on the separate charge doesn't make it seem any cheaper or anything. *shrug* I took the Shepler's ferry the Hope this year to get there.
On or near Cadotte Avenue I passed this place that looked like an outdoors patio/restaurant or something with a pedestal that read "French Outpost," and atop it was this weird statue of a bunch of turtles, one atop another, the biggest one on the bottom and the smallest one on the top, facing in alternating directions. Just this big turtle stack. o_o I have never seen this thing before. Odd. Anyway, I passed Woodfill Park and I wanted to walk along the sidewalk on the other side of the street to avoid going anywhere near the Grand Hotel, since I still sting over what happened when I got near it in 2004 or whenever, only to realize--there WAS no such sidewalk!! The only way to get around was to walk right out in the street! WTF?? I had this awkward experience of walking along the grassy curb near the golf course, hoping nobody would mind. Nobody noticed me, but still, it was embarrassing. I had absolutely no idea where to walk properly and had to keep crossing the street at strange places, wondering what to do. Who decided not to put in a sidewalk?? Ugh. I finally got to Annex Road and went that way. It feels kind of like private property back there because it goes so close to such, so again I was very nervous, but nobody paid me any attention as I took a hundred shots of the cedar woods to the side. I reached Lousignon Trail and it was not at all what I remembered! It was so very tiny! Still, I went on it because perhaps it was more secluded than the road, and I just wanted to be away from people. It turned out that this was just a little trail leading to the main trail, but it itself was marked as the trail, so...whatever.
The main trail itself was in such poor shape from recent rains and horses. There were spots where there were vast muddy puddles spanning the entire width of the trail, and these were rutted and swarming with flies because there was urine in them. Ugh. At one point one was so bad I had to carefully make my way around the edge, nearly going into the woods. And there were lots of people riding bikes and horses coming up behind me all the time, it seemed. I know it was probably just a few, but it felt like a lot, considering how secluded I'd hoped the trail would be! It's hard to hear bikes coming up behind one (the reason why I don't bother bringing music to listen to), so I only heard this one guy at the last minute and hopped aside when he excused himself and then thanked me and went on his way. I started to go back into the road when his female companion arrived, and instead of the polite excuse the guy had offered, she snapped something like, "On your left!" like I was a total moron, and zipped past. She didn't have to be so rude. >:/ Pedestrians have the right of way, after all. I couldn't wait to get to Coffee Trail because perhaps THAT would be more secluded than this was turning out to be!
Well, I finally reached Coffee Trail and...ZOMG I had no clue it was like a horse trail or something!! It hadn't seemed that way the last time I saw it! It was so horribly rutted and muddy! Still, I had my plan and I had to stick to it. I've been wanting to check this trail out since I stepped into it briefly back in 2004, I think, but it looked much different due to the lighting. Back when I last saw it, it was overcast, and it was almost like going into this secret hidden tunnel. Now it was broad daylight and so it didn't seem nearly as magical. :/ Plus it was so rutted I had to keep actually stepping off the trail, into the woods, just to get around some spots. This I could tolerate. It was the FRIGGING MOSQUITOES!! that were driving me nuts. Mackinac Island never used to have a problem with mosquitoes, but this year they were HIDEOUS! They're supposed to have bats to take care of these things! Where the heck are all the bats??
Well, despite Coffee Trail not having the same magical look as before, it was still quite nice, with all the cedars and the feeling of privacy, although it's close enough to some more important trails that I could often hear people around me even if I couldn't see them, and the hoofprints jumbled in the mud proved it was frequently used. I did hope no horses would come up behind me! It's such a narrow trail and all. I came to this tumbled tree with some fungus or something growing on it and it was quite weird. It looked like chewed gum on top, but it was clear underneath! And it had little droplets of sparkling water on it. I tried photographing it, but most pictures didn't turn out well due to me having to turn off the flash--even some of my presentable photos are a little blurry because of this--but I managed to get one moderately decent one. It still doesn't do it justice; I wanted to get it focused and with the droplets sparkling. Oh well. I haven't posted that photo yet as of this writing, and I won't link to anything since I doubt anyone clicks my links from here, but they'll be showing up at DA and then eventually at Flickr as I get the time (and as the Internet and websites work or don't work).
Along Coffee Trail is where I decided to leave my little message this year. Last year I left a couple of Tupperware containers with letters in them, one at Cave of the Woods, one along a trail near the east side of the island, and to my knowledge, they were either thrown away or neither was ever found. Well, this year, the day before going, I was thinking about my rock, and I thought, I should really take a Cheboygan rock and put it on the island, as a sort of trade. Then I thought that was cute. Then I thought, well, why not make it useful too? So I found a nice-sized rock outside, painted a turtle on one side and my e-mail address on the other, and brought that with me. On Coffee Trail I placed it in the roots of a tree and left it there. I of course saw a million better spots to place it in after that, but there was no turning back, I guess. Plus the paint isn't weatherproof and will probably flake off, PLUS, I haven't really had luck finding a special person on the island to communicate with me yet, so...I'm not sure why I even keep trying this. All I got once was a semi-illiterate tourist replying to me once. I keep hoping the right person who loves the place as much as I do will find me somehow. I guess at least if my things aren't ever found, they'll remain there and become part of the island's history, though it would still be nice to find that person.
Coffee Trail was a lot longer to walk than it looks on the map. o_o It's interesting though, in some places in the woods the leaf cover was such that the sunlight that made its way down was tinted green. Everywhere green. I didn't think that was possible because it doesn't happen with the trees around my house, not even the shorter, thicker ones, but it did here. That was nice. And I passed some positively immense pine trees here and there, like the Forest King. They seemed so out of place, I wonder if they're old growth that was for some reason left when the rest of the island was logged? They're just so huge compared to most of the other trees, they must have been there for ages. There were these teeny little flowers I futilely kept trying to photograph along the way. And there was this spot where there was this REALLY thick single strand of spiderweb spanning between the trunks of two trees, and the sunlight was hitting it, and it was really odd looking so I photographed that too.
I finally reached British Landing Road, where it opens up a lot...strangely I can't remember what I was thinking or what was going on when I reached there. *sigh* There were lots of flowers to photograph along the road leading past Wawashkamo Golf Course and the old 1814 Battlefield. I really liked how plain and soothing the road looked meandering between the trees. It seemed almost too "perfect." I came to the area where the really weird warped cedars start and located that huge one I've photographed at least once or twice in the past. It is just this immensely huge, weird, limby cedar. Such a strange tree should really have a name. I'm not sure if I'm getting the words right, but maybe it should be Gitchi-Gizhig, or Mishi-Gizhig. Great Cedar. The dictionary gives a longer spelling but whatever. That's what it should be called. I'd brought a little tobacco, so I left a bit in the crotch of the branches. It's quite an impressive tree, really; I do hope it doesn't ever fall down like cedars tend to do. I took entirely too many pictures of it before heading on.
I heard some people ahead of me say something like "yellow moccasin" or something, I can't recall, something about a moccasin; they were near the side of the road and sounded impressed, before moving on. As I drew near I saw the object of their attention--there was this strange yellow flower growing there, all by itself. A ladyslipper, I believe. I just looked this up in the dictionary and guess what the first word given for ladyslipper is?--"makizin"! *LOL* I don't know flowers, I'm afraid, but that makes sense. This poor flower was all alone there and out of place. I took some pictures, of course. The woods around the road grew darker and prettier along the way.
I at last came to where the road passes by Croghan Water, which, since I made it Chakenapok's resting place, has acquired a greater meaning for me, and I stopped here to take some photos. The water level was quite high this year; I think the last time I saw it there was no water at all, though I'm unsure. As I neared the end of British Landing Road I passed this person's garden and photographed some of their lovely flowers, then came to the landing, which was quite busy with the Cannonball and everything, and stopped here to use the bathroom and rest.
I put my feet in the water this year; it was quite cold. I noticed how the water would dribble down between the pebbles as the waves sucked back out into the lake, and this was almost hypnotic; I could have watched that for a while. As I sat at my table under the trees, one of the ever-present seagulls wandered nearby, then even hopped up onto the seat opposite me, eyeballing my sandwich. "No," I said to it. I kept thinking I should call it "Kayaashk," but I wouldn't know how to pronounce it. "If I gave you any, then there'd be a hundred of you here in an instant. No food for you." It stared at me for a while longer, then hopped down onto the ground, waited a bit, then meandered off elsewhere. Meanwhile at a neighboring table, another seagull hopped right up onto the table with the people and gave them the same treatment, with the same results.
My back actually wasn't acting up this year! Probably due to losing almost all the weight I gained on the medication, about FORTY POUNDS of it. (Whenever I lift up the big bags of birdseed I get, which are 25lb bags, I tell myself I've lost almost twice that, and it's so difficult to believe. No wonder my poor back hurt so much! I can't even CARRY 40lbs for more than a few seconds. Just wish I looked thinner to match!) I kept hoping my bladder would hold out though, since I was so thirsty. I started back up British Landing Road but had to double back because I couldn't find Scott's Road, which I have even taken before, probably also in 2004. Where was it? There was only one trail here and it looked like a private driveway because there were fences on both sides and even an open gateway across the road. That couldn't possibly be it...? I looked harder at my map and figured that yes, it must be, because on the map Scott's Road passes right between two private lots. Weird. Well, I started up that and prayed that nobody would notice me. Nobody did, of course, but you know me...
Scott's Road is really pretty, which is why I took it this year, though I'm afraid my attempt at a picture of the distant water just barely visible through the trees didn't turn out well enough to bother posting. And the road goes RIGHT past another private lot so I felt very edgy. I passed near where the old Scott's Cave must have once been (*sigh*), and then was startled to be able to see Eagle Point Cave looming high above me. I passed this before a few years ago, but couldn't see it then. Now it was plainly visible through the trees. My photos of it are zoomed and flashless, so it's kind of blurry, but you can see it. Whenever I post them, that is. *shrug* I peered at the big lumps of breccia along the slope below it and moved on because the horrid MOSQUITOES!! were driving me mad! I had really wanted to make myself take it slower than I usually do on the second leg of my trips here, when I tend to speed things up, but I just could not, the bugs were so awful. They followed me everywhere. Every once in a great while there was a brief reprieve, but these didn't last long. It was just so awful. I really would have enjoyed this more if it had not been for them.
It got to the point where I was agonizing to reach Leslie Avenue and get the heck out of here, thinking for some reason that surely it wouldn't be so bad there. I had to go up some really steep climbs. I at last reached it, but the mosquitoes didn't abate much at first. Oddly, alongside the trail at one point I found a thick pad of paper with a puppy dog pictured on the cover, somewhat warped and faded from rain. This perfectly good pad of paper, just lying there in the middle of nowhere. I almost took it with me, but it was additional weight, so I left it. It's always weird to be wandering way out where it feels like nobody else could have possibly been since the road was created and to find these odd little reminders of modern life. Like one time when I was walking down State Road, which is so wide yet desolate, I found a torn electrical cord trampled into the dirt. It's this eerie feeling, like you're in the wrong time period or something.
I finally reached British Landing Road and Garrison Road, and now I wasn't in pain, but I was just so tired and thirsty I wanted to sit down, even if only briefly, and rest. I at last find a bench on which to do so but again the insects pestered me and I couldn't sit and rest. *sigh* I proceeded on my way, repeating the process of last year when I wanted to sit on every bench available, but this time just for a brief rest rather than because I was in agony. Stupid mosquitoes! I passed the cemeteries and the big woodland fields of myrtle--the leaves just glisten in the sun, so beautiful--and as usual had some difficulty determining which branch of road led the right way because there are like three of them. I got onto Custer Road at last and located the cute little bench I photographed years ago--again, probably in 2004, and my previous picture of it looks so much better due to the lighting and the poorer camera photo quality, ironically enough. This year I was more careful in finding Fort Street because last year I took the wrong street down and had to double back! I was uncertain as I headed down it but eventually it resolved itself into the right road and I and the people now walking along with me had to walk in this odd, stilted, jarring manner to keep our balance on the incredibly steep slope down. At least it wasn't up!
In town, I still had time left as Ma was going to be late; I had thoughts of visiting the Haunted Theatre, as it was open, but I misremembered the sign and thought that it closed at six and I told myself I wouldn't go there if I got to it after five. (Unfortunately what I'd remembered was that it was six dollars to get in and it was still open when it was time for me to leave. Shoot.) I had a terrible headache from lack of caffeine, so I wandered into a store that looked like it sold more than souvenirs, and bought a bottle of iced tea, and went to the benches near the rest area between Main and Market Streets to drink that. I felt guilty leaving the bottle in the trash as they have so much trouble processing all the garbage on such a tiny island, so I put it in my purse along with the wrapper from my sandwich. (I had actually passed within view of the processing plant, or the dump, or some big building, on British Landing Road; I took a photo of it through the trees. I've never noticed it before even though I knew something was there.) I then went back to the Lilac Tree Hotel to find the Island Bookstore. I saw that they had a reprint set of Wood's Historic Mackinac there, go figure! But it was like $178, and scans of the pages are available online in the public domain, so I left that. Don't think I had enough money anyway. I bought both volumes of Parkman's The Conspiracy Of Pontiac (for a long time I thought there simply WASN'T a volume 2, it wasn't until finally seeing both at the Fort Michilimackinac gift shop that I realized there actually was!), Nute's The Voyageur, a photographic history book of Cheboygan, and People Of The Nightland (had to really dredge my brain to remember the authors' last name for that one since I couldn't recall it all of a sudden). Then I went back to the rest area and sat on one bench until this guy vacated the one nearest the drinking fountain, after which I took over that bench and refilled my water bottle. I decided I'd take the 6:30 ferry, I think it was, or maybe it was the 7:00. I think it was the 7. I hated the thought of having to wait at Shepler's Ferry for my mother to pick me up but I couldn't sit on the island all day either.
There were these mourning doves wandering along the opposite sidewalk. I moved my hand around and they ignored me. I found this exceedingly odd, as all the mourning doves where I live are very easily frightened and will vanish at the slightest motion. These ones were just walking around in full sight of everybody passing by, and one even started making its way toward me, until some girls ran by and scared it off.
Well, I finally readied myself and went to wait for the ferry at fifteen to, but I chose a bad time since there was a HUGE lineup for the ride back! A man in front of me was worrying that there wouldn't be room, but another guy boasted, "Oh, there'll be room. I know there will be, because my wife was standing about this far back in line for a ferry, and she got on," or some other weird convoluted reason that didn't make much sense as I eavesdropped. The first guy asked him where he was from that he knew so much and the second guy said, "Chicago." *rolling eyes* In any event, as the line began to edge slowly forward, one of these guys kind of worked his way ahead of me as it to take cuts! I don't think so! I wormed my way back around to my own spot. How unchivalrous. >:/ I'm very short and so probably look rather young for my age, and here's this big tall older guy trying to cut in front of me. So very courteous. I guess I've overestimated common courtesy nowadays. Anyway, despite the humongous line, there was actually room, maybe because the ferry that arrived was the Capt. Shepler, which, as my ticket stub said, is the biggest of the fleet, and there was even more room because I went belowdeck rather than above, where most people were going. (Idiots. Pff.)
I don't remember if it was the way there or the way back, but there had been this lady, again, boasting at the people who entered, "Sit on THAT side if you want to see the bridge and the island, or sit on THAT side if you want to see the sunrise/sunset (whatever), I ride the ferry every day/all the time/whatever so I know bla bla bla bla..." CRIPES. I do hope I never come across like a smug know-it-all like these two people did. Sure, I'd love to share what I know, but to just yak it out at random people standing around just seems so rude. This is something on which I disagree with my psychologist. When I said that I don't approach people or speak up to them, I wait for them to speak to me first, she said, what if the whole world did this, then nobody would ever talk to anyone else. Well, speaking up first is for other people, not for me. It just seems beyond rude to go up to people and start blathering all the stuff you know. People don't like that. I know how irritated I would get if a total stranger were to walk up to me and start chattering. The only time this is acceptable, IMO, is if you're in a social situation where you're SUPPOSED to mingle with people--but if you're just standing in a store, or library, or something, it's rude. Maybe it's just me who believes this since my psychologist seemed to think it'd be perfectly normal to approach somebody reading a similar book in a library and to chat them up, but I can't imagine anyone being fine with that. And I would certainly hate being that obnoxious moron who bothers somebody else when they just want to read or browse or whatever. So OKAY lady, let the people sit down on the ferry and learn for themselves what direction the bridge is in! Duh.
*WELL*...Ma was not there when I got off, and I had to sit and wait at Shepler's, and I was in a very foul mood by now because for some reason none of the motion-activated sinks in the bathroom had wanted to work. They worked fine for the other people, but not for me. And even when a lady vacated the sink she'd just been using fine, I couldn't get that one to work either! Ugh! Just bring back sink handles already! But anyway that was about it. Hm, I was not nearly as pissy feeling at the time as this entry makes it seem, I just could have done without the mosquitoes and the malfunctioning sinks. And the guy trying to cut into line. The lady honestly didn't annoy me that much, it's just that remembering that brought up my unrelated feelings on the subject. Oh well.
Then last week Ma and I went to Petoskey and I bought some more books at Indian Hills--Retrieving Michigan's Buried Past: The Archaeology Of The Great Lakes State (big honking book), White Raven Speaks: Tales Of Mackinac Island (most of which aren't about the island, but, eh), Schoolcraft's Narrative Journal Of Travels, Schoolcraft's Ojibwa Lodge Stories, and The Ojibwa Of Western Canada. It's interesting, I just discovered downloadable books at the Internet Archive and yesterday found one that Schoolcraft wrote on the Iroquois so I spent a couple of hours downloading that (it's over 20mb). Never knew he wrote about the Iroquois. Schoolcraft is a strange writer. He was an Indian agent, and went to great troubles to collect lots of stories and information on Indian culture, and his own work was the inspiration for Longfellow's Hiawatha, BUT, he also tended to make a lot of stuff up, and change stories to make them more interesting and "Europeanized" and such. For example, lots of the "Indian names" that Schoolcraft contributed to places around here aren't Indian at all, like Leelanau and its various spellings--the Ojibwa didn't even have the letter L in their alphabet. The entire legend of Leelanau is likely just made up by him. So Schoolcraft is really informative, but you have to take what he wrote with a grain of salt. I guess he was only human. There's a book about his wife, I believe, something like The Sound The Stars Make Rushing Through The Sky (that was her Indian name, isn't it pretty?), that I intend to get sometime. But I just bought three CDs at eBay instead, from a seller I've purchased from twice in the past; I do hope this transaction goes as well. One is by Nightwish and one is by Sirenia and the other is Era's latest, which the reviewers say isn't good at all, but I guess I'll have to judge for myself.
Anyway, they've completely redone downtown Petoskey, it's so beautiful now. There are new walkways and little park areas and there are even these areas with trees and benches right in the middle of the street! Seriously--there's like an island separating the lanes, and you can go sit on a bench right in the middle of traffic! So strange! And there was this guy standing on the street playing a saxophone for money. I've never seen a street performer before. I was too shy to go anywhere near him, but you have to have guts, to stand out in the middle of public doing something like that all day.
Hm, it's thundering outside now.
I do have more to write--regarding a reaction I had to something in a writing forum I visit, and my thoughts on the entire thing, but this is so dreadfully long. What was that I said earlier about writing long entries? Oops. I guess once I get started it's hard to stop. Well, I'll stop here, and hopefully I'll get to the rest another time. I'm just not sure when, I'm so busy with various things. Ha ha, I almost typed "various thongs." 
I feel so terribly lonely lately.  I seem to have lost the very last person who was reading or commenting regularly on anything of mine here. I might be premature saying it, but it's been about two months, and I've never succeeded in keeping any readers beyond a year or so. I've been realizing lately that when something upsets me, I have absolutely nobody I can turn to to just talk, whenever, at any time. People say now and then you can contact them any time, but how many people really mean it? And it's not like I can e-mail somebody twenty times a day, even if I did know or trust them well enough to bother them. I have nobody to call or anything. I hate the phone, but if I were comfortable with someone, it'd be nice to talk now and then, actually meet someone in person. I messed up with Dianne some time back--I failed to reply to her for over a year, though I finally sent a long letter explaining myself--and I guess she hasn't forgiven me since she never wrote back, and she was the closest person to me in this area; I guess we were never really friends after all. And another old school friend who contacted me recently all excited to find me again sure gave up fast; she wrote me all of two times, and I kept my replies very very brief; I guess my brevity convinced her I wasn't worth writing to, which is ironic, since with everyone else it's been my wordiness that has scared them off and I was keeping things short only because of this and because of what happened with Dianne. Before that, I would have jumped at the chance to get back in touch with an old friend; now I don't want to, if they're going to disappear just as fast as people online. So I guess she wasn't really my friend either. I suppose I've only ever had one real friend in my entire life, and that was Mya--the only person I could REALLY talk to about the stuff *I* cared about--and even she moved on. I don't know why I never noticed it as much before but I'm so secluded here, like, aside from a few e-mails on the computer, I have absolutely no contact with the outside world. It really hurts lately. I think too many people take for granted how good it can feel having somebody you can talk to whenever you feel like it, about whatever, without fearing that you're boring them off or bothering them. I don't mean just leaning on someone when you're hurting, I mean being able to talk/write to them about whatever, and they're interested in it too. I've completely lost my ability to write to people about just whatever for the very reason that people seem to dislike this unless they're into the same things; this is why when people write me stuff like, "Hi, how are you?" I'll just say I'm fine or whatever and then not say anything else and then leave them thinking I'm snotty or disinterested or something; I've learned not to blather even when I have things to say. And it's not like my psychologist claims, you really can't go out and just chat up some random person in a store or library and expect it to go anywhere. It's too difficult to make friends nowadays. But was it ever really easy? I only made the one(s) I had on accident anyway. I'm fairly certain that I wouldn't have befriended any of them if we hadn't been in the same classes for extended periods. Maybe Mya was the exception, but maybe I'm overestimating her. She probably found me boring too. After all, we're not in touch anymore.
Well, I guess I'm done; time to go read or something, this computer is killing my eyes lately. Ugh. This is not in the least proofed and I'll probably regret that later. Though not as much as I will surely regret all the whining near the end. >_< Well, at least it's out of the way and maybe the garbled nature of this entry will make people lose interest before that part anyway. I recently figured out, I probably wouldn't even journal if I had someone to say these things to in real life, but I don't, so here it is, a journal. Take it or leave it. Preferably the latter. *shrug*
And oh yes, a week or so ago my bio here (and everything else...*sigh*) finally stopped getting so many hits, just like that. I wonder what happened. I feel somebody probably linked to it somewhere for others to laugh at or make fun of and then the link expired and now nobody's looking anymore. I think stupid things, I know, but why else would so many people keep looking at that offsite?
Crud...trouble connecting, and a slow connection speed. I had five glorious days of the Internet working perfectly! I knew it couldn't last. -_-
Tar...
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This page last updated 11/11/09. Still under construction so may change at any time.
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